Not-So-Cute Oracles
by Kayaille
Summary: A short story about the god-willed meeting between one oracle and another. Or at least from Octavian's point of view. Rachel's point of view? THE HECK YOU DOING ON MY TERRITORY? Rachtavian-ish. K : Mild cursing


Not-So-Cute Oracles Ch. 01

A/N: So, yeah, I sort of...couldn't concentrate on Drifter.

This is based shortly before Mark of Athena's end. Also, this isn't really classified as a crossover, right?

All stuff belongs to Rick Riordan.

* * *

Octavian screamed from the base of hill. "Surrender, puny Greeks!' Of course, he was hiding behind three of his bodyguards.

"Surrender? I think not, stupid Romans." Rachel stepped out from the camp's magical protective barrier, raising an eyebrow.

Sometimes, there were times in Octavian's life when he was angered beyond belief. This was not one of them.

Rachel's red hair flashed in the sunlight as her green eyes smoldered with anger. "Stupid Romans. I was having a pleasant summer until we got that message from our demigod team. I had to stop sunbathing and come back in order to speak with you. How mad do you think I am right now? Why they had to send me, I have no idea."

Octavian shook himself out of his daydreams about her cherubic face. "My name is Octavian, Centurion of the First Cohort, Legacy of Apollo. May I know who I am talking with?"

"Oh, so now you get all polite. The heck is with your schizophrenia? Then again, I attend a summer camp for demigods. Should have known you stupid Romans would be the same." She cleared her throat. "My name is Rachel Elizabeth Dare, current host of the Oracle of Delphi."

_An oracle? I thought they all died off..._

"Uh, boss. Do we kill her, or what?" Octavian's bodyguards stared at each other, wondering why their boss was spacing out on them.

"No! Don't kill her!" Octavian nearly screamed.

"I'm sorry, but your weapons don't really work on normal mortals like me. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure that punching you in the face would work for me." The magical barrier behind Rachel shimmered. "Take them down, Half-Blood Camp!"

_Crap..._ While it was true that the Roman legion was highly trained in battle, it was somewhat of a problem if twenty people turned to pine trees... The legion didn't panic, to their eternal credit, but Octavian saw Reyna's face turn pale.

Around two hundred people stormed out of the magical barriers, and about twenty flags were flying in the breeze. And all of the people looked very eager to start slicing up some Romans.

A centaur also galloped out of the magical confines of the camp, and Octavian sneered. "So, you send pony-men after us? Ooh, so frightened." Although, in reality, Octavian's knees were knocking at the sight of all those Greeks.

"I'm afraid not, my boy." The centaur pulled an arrow out of his quiver and aimed it directly at Octavian. "My name is Chiron, and I'm afraid you're entirely out of your league here."

* * *

Rachel was stinking mad. She had just been tanning on Camp Half-Blood's lovely beach when the Stoll twins had pulled her up and out of her chair, which interrupted her day. Then, she was sent,_ alone_, like a sacrificial lamb to go talk with the Romans. The one who had acted as a commander-was it Octave? Rachel had no idea-was insanely confident, bipolar, schizophrenic, and _scrawny_. Maybe Rachel had just been too used to having Jason and Percy and actual males around.

"Remember, Rachel." Chiron had been smiling anxiously, and had kept trying to reassure her as she went through the barrier. "Don't provoke them too much, since they would have normal mortal weapons there."

_This is MY camp. You wanna come destroy it? Come take your best shot, stupid Romans._ And Rachel thought that maybe she had spent a little too much time around Coach Hedge.

So, she sat back and watched.

While the Romans were trained extremely well, the chaos was a little too much for them.

The Hecate cabin was having a little too much fun turning people into various woodland animals. The Demeter cabin was competing with the Apollo cabin to see who could take more people down. _In the end, the serious Romans are going to get beat up by the Greeks who are screwing around. That should seriously smart._

Chiron did take a couple of potshots at the Octave dude, which Rachel applauded. However, the puny coward hid behind his muscles-for-brains bodyguards, and survived. He seemed to sense that the battle was going badly for him.

"Retreat!" The cry came clearly from him, as if he'd had a lot of practice saying it.

The fighting Romans immediately withdrew behind a shield of heavily-armored guards, and high-tailed it outta there.

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. Camp Half-Blood didn't look like they were too severely injured, so she turned her thoughts to Octave.

His resemblance to Luke was uncanny. Of course, Luke really hadn't been skinny and weak-looking, but the same hair, madness, and eye color.

Maybe Luke's really, really, really distant cousin?

Doubtful.

Either way, she found that she couldn't stop thinking of how...dorky he looked.

* * *

A/N: It's a love/hate relationship, I suppose.

I only ship this because I think it's freaking _hilarious_. If you don't agree, well, then...

TOO BAD.

Thanks for reading! Might, might not continue this if I have another writer's block with Drifter.

Sidenote: I just realized just how far apart the three fandoms I wrote for are. Vocaloid, 1/2 Prince, and Rick Riordan. Eh. One day, I'll make a Kane Chronicles crossover. Speaking of which, it's coming out in May! The official crossover written by R. R. is coming out! Dude, _so_ excited. And, yeah, I'm getting off topic. G'night.


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